


a mote of dust

by tin_tweezers



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Calligraphy, Dunamancy is Hot okay, Intimacy, M/M, PWP, bodypainting, by which I mean “Porn With Phenomenology”, fancy drow language porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26207824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tin_tweezers/pseuds/tin_tweezers
Summary: Essek describes Caleb. On Caleb’s body, with ink, in candlelight.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 15
Kudos: 129





	a mote of dust

Lesson the first:

To know reality is to define it. The Light shone into the darkness Before to reveal to us whom we were, that we might see ourselves clearly and without illusion.

Lesson the second:

Reality is mutable. Truth shifts as  a mote of dust in the Light. To know oneself is to glimpse a single moment from a single angle in an immense unmeasurable oblivion of time, space and shadow. Move a step and it twists away.

Lesson the third:

To change reality, you must define it. Name its dimensions, fluxes, possibilities, immeasurables. The Light gave us the Script, that we might name the stuff of reality in the words we used to know it.

Lesson the fourth:

To define reality, you must learn the Script.

Lesson the fifth:

To learn the Script, you must first be defined.

Essek taps the brush against the rim of the pot of ink. He falls into a sing-song rhythm when reciting the convocation of the Script, and his hand can grow loose with familiarity. Best not to risk stray droplets falling on... well. His canvas.

“How far into the process are we?” asks the canvas.

Essek smiles fondly and runs a hand proprietarily down Caleb’s thigh.

“About half way, I think.”

He closes off the glyph on Caleb’s stomach with a final flourish and the brush slips into his navel.

Caleb shivers.

“Ah, pardon me,” and he blushes in the candlelight, “I’m sensitive there.”

“Are you?” Essek grins, “We’ll have to make a note.”

He leans in again and draws a long, sensual ribbon of Script across Caleb’s lower belly.

“Won’t... ah. Won’t my movements, um. Interfere? With the quality of the written word itself?” Caleb is breathing hard. His pupils are dilated and Essek smiles to himself, inscribes  _ warmth  _ and  _ sensitivity  _ and  _ lust _ into his skin.

“In this case, the description is strengthened when the medium itself reflects the thing that is being known.”

“Ah, so you mean, the fact that the writing is messier lends itself to a better understanding of... me?”

“Correct,” says Essek, who blows lightly on the shining ink, because it helps it dry and because he likes to watch Caleb squirm.

He is sitting on Caleb’s thighs. It is impossible to ignore Caleb’s cock, standing erect and aching between the two of them. To his credit, Caleb looks not the least bit embarrassed.His gaze meets Essek’s from across the inked calligraphy of his body and Essek sees hunger, amusement, and a bit of a challenge in those bright blue eyes.

“What makes you think you’re qualified to know me, Essek Thelyss? To... write me?”

“I am not,” says Essek, calmly. “This is a process by which I come to know you, as much as it is one by which you know yourself.”

“Forgive me for being direct, but that seems like a euphemism.”

Essek smiles, a wicked, sharp thing, and draws his brush down Caleb’s hips, through the thatch of reddish brown hair, and swirling up the length of his cock.

“To know oneself is to glimpse a single moment from a single angle in an immense unmeasurable oblivion of time, space and shadow,” he recites again, and Caleb shudders beneath his steady hand. Essek inscribes  _ devotion _ and  _ purpose _ and writes of himself, of this thing between them which is not yet something, but which _might_ be, writes of  _not being alone any more_ ,  of being known.

“It’s easier to see yourself in relation to another. It is easier to see you in relation to me.”

Caleb is panting, and his cock is throbbing beneath Essek’s ink stained palm.

Essek leans forward and kisses the head of his cock, right on the tip, where he has yet to write anything and where Caleb is straining, leaking. He sucks delicately, and slips his tongue into the slit, and Caleb’s back arches. Essek slides his hands beneath his buttocks and holds them as Caleb shakes apart, eyes never leaving his face as Caleb releases into his mouth.  


Essek swallows. Notes the taste. He lowers his head and fills his nose with Caleb’s scent.

“And I am better equipped now than I was before,” Essek murmurs into the crease of Caleb’s thigh as he comes down, mewling. “Because I have seen you held by me, seen you lose yourself. I’ll write about it, Caleb. And together, we’ll change the world.”  


He continues.

**Author's Note:**

> idk friends I wrote this in an hour and a half in the Notes app instead of sleeping. Hope you enjoyed ✨


End file.
